A/N: Thanks to all readers, favoriters, followers, and reviewers, especially Ksummerforever! 😊

Chapter 5—The Explanation

Ginny stomped outside, unable to endure going back in the house, a lump building in her throat, her hands clenched into fists. She knew from experience with these sorts of episodes that she must, absolutely must, do something physical to relieve the awful tension. Afterwards, she'd be able to think, to concentrate, to decide what she should do next. Should she take a broom out of the shed and do some flying? No, she felt instinctively that it wasn't a good idea. She was angry, furious, in fact, on the edge of tears she refused to shed. In this state of mind, it was a terrible idea to fly, because she was so likely to fall off her broom. A broken arm on top of everything else, that's all I need. Still, she needed to do something physical and punishing, something that would leave her exhausted. Pacing back and forth behind the house, on the other side of the lake, her eyes fell on the overgrown mess of a rose garden. Her mother was no gardener, as she was the first to admit, and Molly Weasley had simply given up on the roses long ago. They needed some truly drastic pruning.

Armed with leather gauntlets, safety glasses, hand pruners, and loppers, Ginny began to attack the snarl of brambles. Devon was so much further south than Hogwarts that green leaves were sprouting everywhere among the rosebushes. She cut the thick, red rosehips in bundles and threw them onto a tarp; she lopped dead branches and snipped savagely down to green wood. The earlier thoughts of Draco Malfoy entered her head again, and this time, she did not try to get rid of them.

I want him to write to me again, she admitted. I want to read his words, to feel like he's talking to me. Nimue knows why, but I do. Argh. She didn't even understand why she felt that way. They hadn't talked about much of anything directly during any of the times they'd met. But she realized now that she felt she could talk to him, could speak about things that she never told anyone else. Her fears, her worries, her low moments, her gnawing anxiety, and above all, the streaks of darkness she felt in herself, the ones she could share with nobody else she knew. Draco Malfoy would understand, as no-one else could. Ugh, I'm going mad already, and my imprisonment here hasn't even started! She began viciously deadheading the withered roses that somehow managed to still cling onto last year's stem.

Ginny was standing up and wiping the sweat from her forehead when she saw the Malfoy owl again, as she realized that she had known she would. I'll just completely ignore it, she thought as it landed gracefully on a tree stump and held out its claw. That having been decided, she took the parchment and unrolled it.

I have to at least read this, she realized. She'd asked him what had happened. He surely wasn't going to tell her, but now she did know the truth. This letter would be full of vague lies, she'd recognize them for what they were, and that would be the end of it.

Weasley,

You've asked me to tell you what's happened, and I know I should not explain a word of it. But I find myself doing it anyway. How odd. Potter, Granger, and your brother were brought here, to the manor. I'm still sane enough to not tell you all the details, but they were questioned. They then escaped. No-one here is happy about it, as I'm sure you can imagine. As far as my part in the debacle… I was not involved.

I will tell you something else, because it has bothered me that I did not tell you before. You've wanted to know where Luna Lovegood has been, and now that she's gone, I will tell you. My cousin was a prisoner at Malfoy Manor. I saw to it that she was well fed and comfortably housed. She was taken with them, and if they are safe, so is she.

I've done things that I regret, and I am still doing them now. But I have tried to do my best, and I will continue to do so. How strange that I should tell these things to you, Ginny Weasley, you of all people.

D.M.

Ginny sagged back with an enormous sense of relief. At last, she knew what had happened to Luna. She'd forgotten that her friend was Malfoy's cousin, and perhaps that was what had got him to treat her well when she'd been imprisoned in the dungeons of his family home; Ginny didn't really care what the reason was, only that he had done it. He had also answered her own question honestly. In fact, he had been more honest with her than her family had been, because he had not tried to evade that question. He had told her all of the truth as he could, and she was astonished that he had said as much as he had. Taking the pen from the owl's claw, she wrote a reply.

Malfoy,

I regret things too. But my best is all I can do. Were they all right when they escaped, do you know that? How was my brother? What about Luna? And Hermione?

G.W

After she sent the owl back, she realized that she had not included Harry's name. In fact, she had not even thought of him.

Ginny sat moodily chewing on a ham and cheese sandwich a few hours later, wishing that she had more appetite for this impromptu lunch. She didn't look up when footsteps entered the dining room.

"Ginny, we need to talk," said her father. Something about the firm calm in his voice made her put the sandwich down.

They walked outside, around the lake. "How's Mum doing?" she asked, thinking resentfully that she knew the answer. Her mother had a way of retreating to the bedroom with convenient headaches.

"She's all right, just resting," her father said.

"Oh, I'm sure she is," Ginny muttered.

"Ginny…" Her father sighed. "You do know that your mother only wants the best for you."

"Yes. But Dad, please just tell me the truth about one thing. Mum didn't want me told anything," guessed Ginny. "Isn't that right? She only wanted me to be ordered to stay home, but she didn't even want me to know about what happened to Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

"Well, no; I wouldn't say that." Her father avoided her eyes. "She just wasn't sure how much you ought to be told. I… I'm still not so sure that she was wrong, Ginny. She didn't want you worried."

"I'm a lot more worried when nobody tells me anything at all about what's happening."

"Yes… yes, I suppose that's true."

"Dad…" Ginny didn't have a good feeling about her chances of success with trying to talk her father into anything when her mother had so clearly laid down the law, but she knew that she had to try. Maybe if I try to sound really rational… "Do you really think it makes any sense for me to stay home and not go back to school? I mean, seriously? Why do you think Death Eaters would kidnap me now, when they haven't already? If they were going to nab me, they surely would have tried it before." Dismally, she was aware that she wasn't making as much sense as she'd hoped.

Her father gave her a rather disappointed look. "Ginny, you know better than that. Think about it. The Death Eaters had Harry, but they lost him. They have every reason to want to lure him back. For it to have any chance of working, they'd need to give him a good reason. It's very well known that you were his girlfriend and almost certainly still are. You're more than smart enough to figure that out."

Yes. She was.

"Let's sit down for a moment," sighed Arthur, patting the space next to him on a bench facing the small lake. She nodded and sat, staring out at the still water.

"There's something more," he said. "I actually agreed with your mother that you shouldn't be told this, but I think I can see, now, that it's necessary. Luna Lovegood was in the Malfoy dungeons. I know you've wondered for the past month where she is; well, we've got the answer now."

"Oh! Yes, I did wonder, all right." Ginny tried desperately to keep her face impassive. Her father must not know that she already knew this. If he did, he would have to wonder how she possibly could have heard about it. He certainly would be aware that she'd had no normal means of finding it out since she'd been at home. I should tell him about Malfoy's owls, and I know it, she thought. But not now, not just yet.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione apparently rescued her and brought her to Shell Cottage with them, along with Mr. Ollivander," her father went on. "I was relieved to hear it, I can tell you."

Ginny wondered if her father knew anything about the book that Hermione was apparently looking for. But if she didn't tell Harry and Ron, I suppose that Bill wouldn't have heard anything about the book either, she thought.

"Yes, I am too. But I don't understand," said Ginny. "Why didn't Mum want me told this?"

"I think she didn't want you to be worried."

"But I was more worried by not knowing what happened to Luna!" Her voice was going up again.

"You know it now," said her father, his face shuttering against her. He got up, and they kept walking.

This was a good example of exactly what was wrong, thought Ginny. Both of her parents had thought that she should not be told the truth about what had happened to Luna, but it was something she needed to know. She'd been trying to figure out where her friend had gone for almost a month now, constantly worrying about whether or not she was all right. Yes, she'd had a deep, instincthat Luna wasn't being harmed, and to a lesser degree Hermione, but she had never trusted that feeling. If she'd only known that she was at Malfoy Manor, at least that would have been a relief. And furthermore, Ginny had to admit that it was a good additional argument for keeping herself away from school. She had no doubt that Luna had been kidnapped to get leverage on her father; her friend had often talked about the articles he'd written that were sympathetic to the light side. This was only further proof that it did make sense that Ginny herself would be kidnapped to have the same kind of power over Harry. If her parents really wanted to convince her that she needed to stay home, the truth about Luna was ideal. But they hadn't told her—perhaps because they didn't think she could handle it, perhaps because really, the gods only knew why. Ginny silently vowed that she was at least going to try to find out.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes as she tried to figure out what to say next.

"Did Bill say anything else?" she finally asked.

Her father tapped his chin. "There was one other thing. When Harry was brought in, Lucius Malfoy demanded that Draco identify him. Apparently, it was necessary for a Malfoy who was familiar with Harry to provide positive identification, something to do with blood magic or place magic, I would guess. But he wouldn't do it."

"Malfoy didn't identify Harry?" she asked, her brow wrinkling.

"No, and it's rather strange. Because Draco Malfoy refused, they couldn't question Harry in the way they needed to do."

"But you're saying that he still wouldn't do it," Ginny said slowly.

"That's right, he wouldn't, and he didn't," said Arthur. He drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Do you know, Ginny, I feel rather sorry for that boy."

"He doesn't deserve any pity, Dad," said Ginny. She felt awful as soon as she said the words.

"Maybe not." Arthur sighed. "We'd best get back to the house."

Ginny ignored the request and started walking around the orchard as fast as she could while her father walked back, thinking about what she had said. The words had come out of her mouth automatically, because they were the sort of thing she had always said about Draco Malfoy, particularly since they all knew that he had become a Death Eater of some sort. But they were words that she no longer meant, and she understood that now.

And it was more than that. Her deep core of honesty forced her to face the fact that there was another reason why she'd said that Draco Malfoy didn't deserve pity. It was because she did not want to give away any hint that she now thought that maybe, just maybe, he did.

Ugh. I'm thinking about Malfoy again! I can't read any more of his letters, I won't let myself do it- if that owl ever even shows up again, which I'm sure it won't.

She sighed and sat on a tree stump. A few minutes later, she heard the sound of flapping wings. It was, of course, the Malfoy owl. She took the parchment while busily arguing with herself that reading whatever was written on it was the worst idea in the world.

Weasley,

Potter, Granger, and your brother were all right when they left. They did look rather ridden hard and put away wet from the moment they arrived, but otherwise fine. By the way, I was not present when Granger was questioned.

Ginny put down the letter for a moment. What the hell did that mean? Was he trying to say that he wasn't responsible in any way for whatever had happened to Hermione? Certainly sounds like it… She went back to reading.

The entire incident did not improve the atmosphere in the Manor to say the least, but then, it wasn't very good to begin with. I've been trying to escape the house as much as possible. I went flying this morning over a part of the grounds that isn't used much, near the tower I mentioned to you. It helped a bit. Are you flying? I like to think of your hair blowing in the wind, outlined in red and gold against the sun.

I like to think of you on a broom in the blue sky, Weasley. There are so many dark things now. I can imagine you soaring to the sun.

DM

Malfoy,

I'll go flying tomorrow morning. I do miss it, now that you mention it.

Did anything… happen… to you because of what you refused to do? Are you all right?

GW

Perhaps she had still referred to the incident with Harry too directly; he might not like that at all. Too bad. Ginny honestly wondered if she would ever hear from Malfoy again after this letter. She tried to convince herself that it would be for the best, by far, if she did not.

The next morning, Ginny approached her mother as she was doing the dishes, taking them out of the rinse water and beginning to dry them. After a few silent minutes, she spoke.

"Mum, by the way, is your headache all right?"

"Yes, perfectly fine by now; thank you, Ginny," said her mother in a rather tight-lipped way.

At least she's not calling me Ginevra anymore. She tried to take some hope in that fact.

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you and Dad," Ginny ventured after a few more silent moments of putting away dishes.

Molly Weasley inclined her head. Ginny groaned inwardly. This was not going well.

"It's just that I wanted to know everything that's happened before both of you decided that I needed to be kept at home for another two months," said Ginny, trying as hard as she could to sound reasonable and rational.

"Well, now you do know everything," said her mother.

"But I didn't know about Luna until later on—" Ginny stopped. The second she saw the look on her mother's face, she knew with absolute certainty that her father had acted on his own when he'd told her the truth about what had happened to Luna. Molly's lips tightened.

"Okay, you didn't want me told. But why not?" Again, Ginny could hear her own voice becoming louder, and she struggled to rein it in. "Is it because you thought it would make me worry too much? I worried about Luna lot more when I had no idea where she was or what had happened to her."

Her mother began putting the dry dishes in a cupboard. "I suppose that it's just as well that you know about Luna. Surely you can see now how serious this is, and why we need to keep you at home. Do you really want to live with the knowledge that you were responsible for Harry being caught? Maybe for the entire war being lost?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows. Even for Molly Weasley, this was an astonishing guilt trip. She remembered that her mother liked to bring these sorts of things up when she didn't want to answer a question, and it was certainly not lost on her that the reply hadn't really answered her own question at all. Might as well seize the snorkack by the horns!

"Mum, why didn't you tell me about Luna?" she asked point blank.

"It doesn't matter now. Give me that platter, and make sure it's dry."

Ginny leaned against the counter, a new idea turning over in her mind. "Mum, you thought that if I knew Luna was at Shell Cottage, then I'd go to find her. That's it, isn't it? And you were sure that once I was there, then I'd want to go with Harry, Ron, and Hermione on that quest to find all the Horcruxes, and I wouldn't go back to school at all."

Her mother's silence was all the answer that Ginny needed.

"So that is why!" gasped Ginny.

Molly turned round, her arms crossed, and she gave her daughter a long, hard look. "Yes. That's exactly why I did not want you told, and I'm not ashamed to say it. I'm afraid that's exactly what you would have done. You would have taken that excuse to go on the quest, and your father and I will not permit it. You're not of age, Ginny, you're not old enough or mature enough to make that sort of decision. I couldn't do anything about Ron, but I will not allow you to walk into danger, not while there is breath in my body."

A dish slipped out of Ginny's hands and crashed to the floor.

"Oh!" gasped her mother. "Grandmother Lysandra's best platter!"

"Mum, I'm sorry—" Ginny began to scrabble through the pieces on the floor. "I didn't mean to do it."

"No, you never mean to destroy anything, do you!" snapped her mother. "And yet, somehow, these things always seem to happen." She started towards the door.

"Please, Mum, wait!" Alarmed, Ginny got to her feet. But her mother was already gone, and when she ran to the front door, she saw Molly striding down the front walk.

That evening, Ginny was sitting in her bedroom and sketching the trees outside the window when she heard her mother's footsteps coming into the room. Whenever Molly Weasley walked carefully and deliberately into her room after an argument, Ginny could pretty much figure out how stiffly the conversation was going to go. It was not a good beginning for what Ginny knew she should do, which was to tell her mother about the owls from Malfoy.

"Your father set everything up today with school, Ginny dear," Molly said without preamble. "Your books and homework will be delivered to the Ministry by owls, and you'll send the finished tests and papers back the same way."

"Thanks, Mum. But why can't the owls just be sent here?"

"Your father and I don't wish to draw attention to the fact that you're at home for the rest of term."

Ginny swallowed hard. She needed to put her pride aside and tell Molly Weasley about the visits from the Malfoy owl. With her strong streak of common sense, she knew that no matter how she felt about her mother at the moment, she should inform her parents about what was going on. But somehow, she couldn't say the words.

"How will I know anything about what's going on, though?" she asked.

"If we hear anything about Harry, or Ron, or Hermione," said her mother, "we'll tell you, Ginny. Of course we will."

She put down her pencil. "But what's going to happen, Mum? What do Harry and the others actually plan to do? I mean, I know that they're searching for all the Horcruxes, but what then?"

Her mother avoided her gaze. "I suppose… well, I would think that there will likely be some fighting. I can't imagine Voldemort and the Death Eaters tamely giving up, whether Harry has all the Horcruxes or not."

Ginny caught her breath. "Fighting? Where? How?"

"Whatever it is and wherever it happens, you won't be in the middle of it, Ginny," her mother said flatly.

All of Ginny's desire to tell her mother about Draco Malfoy's owls vanished instantly. "Whatever, Mum," she mumbled.

"This would be a good time to put in extra practice on your Arithmancy," said Molly, clearly determined to change the subject.

"What could possibly be more fun?" muttered Ginny.

"It's always been the weak point in your test scores," her mother pointed out.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know—" She gasped.

"What is it, dear?"

"Nothing! Just a cramp in my foot," said Ginny quickly. She had seen a white dot moving towards the window outside.

"Oh, I do hope those aren't starting up again. You'll need to be sure to get enough exercise," her mother fussed.

"Right. Loads of exercise. But I really want to get back to this drawing right now, before I lose all the light, and it's going to happen any second," babbled Ginny. She could see out of the corner of her eye that the owl was getting closer.

Her mother hesitated, and Ginny wondered if she should fall on the floor in a pretended faint to distract attention away from the bird that was getting ready to land on the windowsill.

"All right," Molly finally said. "We'll talk more about this tomorrow!"

"Right! Tomorrow! Great!" Ginny pasted a giant smile onto her face.

Her mother shut the door just in time. Only a few seconds later, the owl tapped on the window.

Weasley,

Thank you for your concern. Whatever the results of my ridiculous action might have been, I'm all right now.

Don't ask me why I did it. I can't believe I was such a fool. I'm not noble. I will never claim to be. But I can do a good thing, or at least an action that you might say was good. It's such an odd feeling.

I'm writing from the old tower at the edge of the property now, the one I told you about. How strange, that you've always been able to find the one at Hogwarts; I remember when we were there together. I wish that you could see the tower here.

DM

Whatever the results… what could he possibly have meant by that? Had he really been punished somehow for failing to identify Harry? The thought gave Ginny a strange pang.

Malfoy,

It's so horribly dull here. I wish I could see it too.

GW

Before she could write more in that vein, she stopped herself. Then she wrote two more lines, the pen moving swiftly.

Someone almost caught me with your owl tonight. I'm not sure it's safe for you to keep sending letters.

G.W.

This was the best way to handle the entire situation, she decided. Malfoy would surely stop sending her owls now.

Before she could think better of writing back at all and simply set the parchment on fire, she sent back the owl with her reply. She was sure that she would not hear from him again.

But three days later, she was proven wrong.